


Fifteen Again

by sinnerforhire



Series: 365 Days of J2 Fanfic [21]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Campfires, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9164812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerforhire/pseuds/sinnerforhire
Summary: Jared and Jensen reminisce about campfires and make out. For the prompt "write about ashes."





	

Jensen wakes up to a gentle breeze and a slight scratching sound. He blinks twice, then a third time, and glances over to see Jared kneeling in front of the fire pit with the stick that Sadie was playing with earlier. It’s colder now, the nighttime chill settling in his bones. The fire’s out, and he assumes Jared has no intention to restart it.

“Hey,” says Jensen, his voice soft and rough from disuse. 

Jared looks over his shoulder. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Sorry,” Jensen sits up and scrubs a hand over his face. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

Jared smiles softly and stands up, stretching his arms over his head. “Not a problem. You want to head inside?”

“In a bit.” Jensen gets up then, stretches his own arms and legs, and looks into the fire pit, where Jared has drawn “J ❤ J 4vr” in the ashes. Jensen grins and puts his arm around Jared’s shoulders. “Very nice.”

Jared grins. “I couldn’t resist.”

“You always did love ‘playing in the fire,’” says Jensen, referring back to their childhood, where that meant being able to poke sticks or forks into the campfires their parents made when their families camped together. 

“I did.” Jared rests his head on Jensen’s shoulder, even though that’s a little awkward with how much taller he is. “Still do.”

“It’s a good thing we can have one in our backyard, then,” replies Jensen.

“Definitely.” Jared’s hand comes to rest on Jensen’s hip and he guides him over to the wooden swing underneath the big maple tree. Jared pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps it a few times before a familiar song fills the air. It’s “Nightswimming” by R.E.M., the song they played over and over the summer Jared turned fourteen, after Jared’s music camp roommate had introduced him to the band. Finally, at the end of the summer, Jensen sat down at the piano and picked the whole thing out, so after that they tended to play and sing it themselves instead of listening to the CD, even though Jared can’t sing for shit.

“We should go camping again,” says Jared. “I miss it sometimes.”

“I miss parts of it,” agrees Jensen. “Flushing the septic tank and communal showers? Don’t miss that at all.”

“I’m sure we could rent an RV with a shower now,” says Jared. “It is the twenty-first century. It’s been over fifteen years, I’m sure campers and RVs have improved since then.”

Jensen kisses Jared’s temple. “I’ll think about it,” he promises. 

Jared grins and turns to kiss Jensen on the lips, slow and soft. “That’s all I ask.”

Jensen slips a hand under the hem of Jared’s shirt and splays his fingers across the warm skin of Jared’s back, pulling him close for a more sensual, heated kiss. Jared rests a hand on the back of Jensen’s neck and draws him even closer, until the space between their chests can be measured in millimeters. 

The wooden swing supporting them is cold and hard, not exactly ideal for this sort of thing, and Jensen gasps, “Take this inside?” 

“Not ready yet,” breathes Jared, pressing his lips to Jensen’s before Jensen can protest. His tongue darts past Jensen’s lips to brush his own, and he swallows any objections Jensen might have made.

Jensen runs his fingers through Jared’s hair, which he knows Jared loves, and Jared makes a soft sound of approval. Jared’s own hand strokes down Jensen’s back and sneaks under the waistband of his track pants. Jensen leans forward, pressing his chest to Jared’s, and Jared cups Jensen’s ass with strong, sure fingers, one of which starts to tease at his hole.

“We can’t,” Jensen whispers. “Neighbors.”

“I’ll behave.” Jared’s hand finds its way out of Jensen’s pants and up to the small of his back. They’re impossibly close now, with Jared’s back pushed up against the arm of the swing, and it would take only an inch or two of movement to bring their hard, heavy cocks together, so Jensen surges forward, closing the gap.

Jared moans into Jensen’s mouth and Jensen grinds their cocks together through two layers of fabric. The friction is painful in both the good and the bad ways, and Jensen figures it’s dark enough and they’re close enough to risk it, so he parts the fly of his track pants and exposes his cock to the cool night air. He quickly does the same for Jared and fists both their cocks in one hand, which he’s not nearly as good at as Jared, because Jared’s hand is the size of a fucking salad plate, for real, but Jared lets out a delicious moan of approval, so Jensen jacks them both easily, lazily, as if they have all the time in the world. Because they do. 

“Love you,” murmurs Jared, nipping at Jensen’s jaw, then his earlobe.

Jensen runs his thumb lightly over the tip of Jared’s cock, then his own, and Jared shivers against him. Jensen grins. “Love you too.”

Jared clasps one hand around Jensen’s neck and the other around Jensen’s hand, picking up Jensen’s rhythm and speeding it up a bit. “I’m so close,” breathes Jared. “So fucking good, Jen. You don’t even know.”

Jensen kisses the bit of Jared’s exposed throat that he can reach, taking the skin gently between his teeth, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to get a response. Jared moans and drops his head back, giving Jensen access to even more warm, supple skin. Jensen kisses a trail down Jared’s throat to the hollow of his neck, slipping his t-shirt collar down so he can make a mark underneath it. He bites down on a spot just below Jared’s neck, and Jared comes in his hand with a stuttered shout. Jensen strokes himself through his own orgasm and goes boneless in Jared’s arms. 

“I feel like we’re fifteen again,” mutters Jensen.

“That a bad thing?”

Jensen shakes his head. “Not at all, babe. Not at all.”


End file.
